


Whatever It Is

by Averia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky was not really caring about the insults, even though it should have hurt him. He knew Stark would fix it and that was really all that mattered. If it also meant that Stark would be propping his arm forever, then so be it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever It Is

**Author's Note:**

> I read Iron Winter Fanfiction for the first time in my life, then this happened.

It had become a common ritual to sit down in the chair and wait for the genius to start bustling around him. He never said anything to make his presence known. Stark had the habit of noticing any technology that suddenly made an appearance in his vicinity. As an assassin it should have made him uncomfortable to feel those eyes on him the very second he sat down on the chair, instead it felt relaxing. He knew the genius _would make the pain go away_. It was a naïve thought but it helped. The first time Stark had taken care of the arm was also the first time that the prosthetic had felt like something that would bring him closer to his humanity than even further away.

Stark started to chatter right away. It was what he did and Bucky had learned to accept it. More so when he had realised that it was actually helping. Listening was easier than talking and even banal stories about the girls Stark had dated let memories flicker up in his mind he had thought long lost. It did not hurt that they were more pleasant than most of the memories that resurfaced.

From the very beginning Stark had made snide remarks, they wove into his pattern of speaking casually. Bucky should have been offended, should have been hurt by the insensible words, instead they made it easier for him to belong. Stark had never tried to be overly careful, was not careful with anything but the arm. And even though Bucky knew that the genius was not doing all this for him but rather for the technological aspect, he could not help but enjoy it.  

“Honestly? What the… what did you do?” asked Tony, when he opened the scales of the arm. Smoke was curling in front of him as if to mock the technology that was now more Stark than Hydra.

“Did you reach into a power outlet while socked in water? This is” Stark clicked with his tongue, his teeth clenched, looking the arm over, touching the still heated metal. “Damn it, Barnes. Take your arm off the next time you decide life is not worth living anymore.”

Bucky was not really caring about the insults, even though it should have hurt him. He knew Stark would fix it and that was really all that mattered. If it also meant that Stark would be propping his arm forever, then so be it. The mechanic’s touches were easy to accept anyway. They started far away from his skin and always ended on his shoulder. It was a slow advance Bucky could deal with and if he secretly felt at easy through the closeness and the accidental touches than that was simply an added bonus. 

He had stopped counting their meetings when it had become apparent that Stark would never back away from the challenge that was his arm, no matter how feral he seemed or how much damage had been done. The first time he was sitting in this chair Stark had been hesitant but after only a few seconds he had hovered over the metal arm, from which everyone else stayed as far away as possible. Every time he came to Stark, the man changed something and every time his arm felt more human. Every time Bucky could see the sparkling in Stark’s eyes after a job done well, his lips could not help but twitch into an almost smile. This _right here_ felt good, a little heaven of blinking lights and bleeping noise.  

“It will take hours. I will miss a date, a conference – not that I would have gone there anyway” Stark said scowling down at the technology as if it had offended him and it probably had because a breakdown of the circuits should not have happened. “Can you do anything with it? Curl your fingers?” 

Bucky tried it but all that followed was a twitch of his index finger and the hazel eyes of the mechanic focused on him, disappointed to the last bit.

“You know. I at least expected to be rewarded with a middle finger. I am deeply disappointed.”

Bucky tilted his head. He did not like the dead pan response. It lacked the biting sass. Trying again he somehow accomplished to let his whole hand twitch in a grabbing gesture. Stark raised an eyebrow when more smoke begun curling out of his arm.

“Just leave it be before you blow us up, Mr. Super Soldier.”

It took long, much longer than Bucky had thought but it had been a whole lot of damage. He was nothing but patient and he kept listening, following every movement with his eyes until all that needed to be done was welding the metal together. Bucky liked how the blue flame accented Stark’s face.

Stark’s fingers run over his arm, searching for any uneven places that could make problems until they reached the end of the metal arm to inspect the damage done to his skin. Stark had never stopped being angry about the scars and he did not like at all every time new ones appeared. He always tended to say that the arm would have been good enough to integrate them. Bucky was not so sure about that, he liked them, liked a reminder that there had once been _something._  

When he tried to move the arm it felt even easier than before. Stark had regulated the weight to be adjusted to his flesh arm and the metal plates had nearly no friction against each other. He went over to the weights, lifting a few until he could be sure that nothing would rip apart.

When he turned around Stark was watching him with his hand supporting his head and Bucky knew that the man had been tired all along. It became even more apparent when the wink at him came a second too late. He had no idea how long Stark had not slept or eaten. The man was never tired enough to make mistakes. His gaze swept to the new half finished robot Stark had been working on and he could not help but feel a bit guilty.

“How is it?” Stark asked, expecting a vocal answer. At one point Steve had become close to a near breakdown because he was still not talking a word on most days and Tony was the only one who could pressure him into talking. His treats after all were real and did affect Bucky.

“Good” his voice was still raspy and raw from all the non-use and it would not get better any time soon if his reluctance to speak would stay, which it would. “I like it.”

Stark stood up, stretching his back and walked towards his alcohol cabin. Bucky stayed silent, watched Stark gulp the alcohol down, then the mechanic begun to work at his robot again. He should be out of here by now. There were times in which he stayed and Stark would give him a book or a movie or a song, anything that he had missed. Today was not such a time. He had interrupted Stark’s schedule. The genius had probably locked himself down here to work on a new project.

He stayed in the corner, blending in with the half shadows as if he was only furniture. The room filled only with peeping, hammering and the few curses that left Stark’s lips. It lulled him into a state close enough to sleep that he nearly missed when the workshop grew silent.

Stark was standing impatiently in front of him when he opened his eyes but there was enough softness in them that Bucky knew he was allowed to stay.

“Come on. Cap told me you have not slept for days” said the genius holding his hand in front of him and the metal arm nearly moved automatically, cold fingers curling around flesh. Bucky caught a glance at the still only half-finished robot and stopped dead in his tracks before Stark could pull him out. The mechanic followed his line of sight.

“I’ll get over it” he said a bit grimly but Bucky had no time to complain before he was pushed forward through whichever robot had decided to help the mechanic.

They settled on the couch. Stark turned on the old Star Trek episodes that were still knew to Bucky and silently begun tipping on his pad, probably working on the robot design. Bucky leaned back against the couch and fisted his hand into the end of Stark’s pants. The genius looked up at him for a moment, a curious look on his face and he did not pull away. Instead he settled deeper into the couch to lie down and grant better access. Bucky was glad that Stark did not ask why he was doing this. He clasped onto the material with his other hand too, relaxing again. He just needed something to hold onto.  

He was dozing when Stark started speaking again. The softness of his voice betrayed that he was expecting him to sleep.  

“You worry _him_. A handful of them are worried. Natasha and Sam like you too. You should be with them. At least try to tell them you are at least alive” Stark chuckled lightly “Or don’t. It’s always fun to see Cap’s dark scowl directed at me because I am the one who knows where you are.”

A sigh followed and Bucky could feel the feet shift out of his grasp. A frown settled on his face and he grasped Stark’s shirt before he could disappear in his workshop again. 

“Stay” he croaked “You should sleep too.”

Stark looked down at him surprised.

“Oh, look at the adorable puppy. It speaks” he cooed like an old lady at her grandson. Bucky narrowed his eyes, pulling him back on his shirt. Stark tumbled onto the couch unceremoniously, his eyes going wide from shock. Bucky was caching him, both hands beside his head. He vaguely remembered that this position should have been awkward, instead he settled his whole weight onto the man when he lay down, his nose smelling the grease of motor oil and his cheek touching the arc reactor.

“Are you even for real?” asked Stark, slightly out of breath because Bucky was lying on his sternum and he shifted to get them in a more comfortable position. His face still smashed against the oil stains.

“They will kill me. It will all be my fault. You are just an innocent Labrador. They won’t blame you if something happens. Natasha will split me open.”

Bucky frowned, his arms tightening around Stark.

“Shut up.”

It was silent for a while and Stark’s heart beat was slowly regaining its normal speed again. He had shifted again, could feel actual skin at his cheek. It was warm and he closed his eyes.

“You know” begun Stark again, his voice pitched to a joking sound “I am getting hard. You don’t want that. Playboy, remember?”

Bucky provokingly pushed his knee up and the way Stark’s body tensed in his grip let his grin grow.

“You are not a puppy. You are the devil” said Stark, his voice hitching when Bucky kissed him onto his collar bone.


End file.
